Author: wolfcub Title: First Bikini Summary: A pre-teen girl gets her first bikini and is confused by the feelings it awakens in her. Keywords: M+g b+g 1st exhib interr reluc preg It was my first bikini that started all the trouble. Every summer, my parents went to the islands for vacation, and I went to my grandparents' house; however, the summer after I turned eleven, my parents decided to take me with them. They said I was finally old enough to appreciate the experience. I didn't understand what they meant by that, but I didn't really care. I was just happy to be going. As if that wasn't enough of a surprise, my mom bought me a bikini--a REAL bikini--one of those really skimpy ones with the string ties that barely covers anything! The bottom was just a single triangle of silky material that was just large enough to cover my vulva. There really wasn't a back, there was just a place where the strings came together, which left my butt completely exposed. My recently-budded breasts weren't quite as big as tangerines, but the tiny triangles of the bikini top still only barely covered them. I rushed to put it on, then stood in front of the mirror for a long time admiring my developing body, which was just starting to get the curves that would distinguish it from a young boy's. The pale flesh that had been previously hidden beneath my one-piece marred my appearance, but that could be fixed in short order. I spent afternoons and weekends lying out in the back yard. By the time school was out in June, I had a nice, even tan. I had even sneaked off my top, when I could, so my small breasts were tanned, as well. I felt really grown up, wearing that bikini, but the first time I wore it to the beach, I had a sudden attack of modesty. I was so excited to finally get to wear it in public, but when it came time to take off the t-shirt I was wearing over top of it, I became acutely aware of just how many people were at the beach--particularly older boys and quite a lot of older men. I wasn't too concerned about showing off my butt. My one-piece usually rode up, so most of my butt was hanging out most of the time. I even got over being annoyed by the comments from boys my age. What worried me was that I really felt naked on top. My mother must have sensed my apprehension. "Just dive right in, Babboo! You can't stay a little girl forever." That last part was a pretty hard shove. Mom knew how much I wanted a bikini, so that I could "be like the big girls." It was her way of saying "I told you so" after years of insisting that I was too young to wear one. That did it. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, dropped it on my towel, and gave my mother a "Take that!" look. She smiled. I walked down to the water so that I wouldn't have to listen to any other comments she might have. When I was more or less alone, I became aware of a tremendous sense of freedom. I could feel the sun and wind on my bare skin, and it somehow made me feel more alive. I laughed out loud, and with a sudden burst of energy, I took off running down the beach, splashing in the shallow water that washed up with each wave. I raised my arms in the air, spun around, then did a cartwheel. I looked up the beach and saw an old man watching me. When my eyes caught his, he smiled. I looked away, embarrassed by my childish display. After walking a short distance further down the beach, I glanced back over my shoulder. The man was still watching me and still smiling. As I continued down the beach, I became aware of many more older men who were following me with their eyes. I felt as if I were on stage. For a brief moment, I was embarrassed, but then a mischievous feeling overcame me. I stopped in front of one of the men, turned towards the water, and bent over to pick up a shell, giving him a clear view of my naked butt. I dropped to my knees and crawled like a panther stalking its prey, pretending to search through the sand for shells. I peeked over my shoulder. The man was looking right at me, smiling. I noticed that several other men near him were also looking my way. An even naughtier thought entered my mind. I sat down on the beach facing the closest man. I spread my legs wide, dumped a handful of shells in front of me, and began sorting through them. When I peeked up, the man in front of me gave me an "okay" and a nod that seemed to say, "Nice!" I felt suddenly embarrassed, again, so I got up and resumed my walk. I tried not to look at the people sitting up the beach, but I couldn't help noticing that I was attracting the attention of every old man present. The phrase "dirty old man" came to mind, and I realized that I now understood what it meant. Surprisingly, that made me smile! I stood a little taller and lightened my step as I paraded in front of the old men, proudly showing off my young, maturing body. It felt good to have their attention. When I began to feel that I was getting too far away from my parents, I turned around to head back. I saw that the man who had given me the approving nod had been following me. He was now about thirty feet in front of me. I cautiously walked toward him, looking down at the ground as I got near. Just as I was about to pass him, I heard him say, "Hi, darling! Aren't you the sweetest thing on the beach, this morning?" I looked up at him. When I saw his face, I blushed and looked back down. He turned to follow me when I passed. "Don't be shy, sweetie. Every girl likes to show off her new bikini." I looked up, puzzled. He already knew my question. "It's pretty obvious when a girl gets her first bikini. She's happy and proud, and she wants to show it off to the whole world. You have that look about you." I looked away and continued walking without saying a word. He walked with me, closely enough to make me just a little nervous, but I quickly realized that it was more excitement than nervousness. "You're a beautiful young woman," he continued. "A pleasing sight to an old man, such as myself. Of course, I imagine that all the attention you get from boys your age leaves you without the slightest interest for men your grandfather's age." Actually, I was both a little creeped out and a little flattered by his attention. The small fear I felt was accompanied by a warm, pleasant feeling from the thought that an adult thought I was beautiful--even if the adult was an old man. "I'm going to go up to the restrooms--by the showers at the edge of the parking lot. You might want to wander up that way, but don't let it look like you're following me." We had reached the spot where he had been sitting, and he walked up the beach and started to gather his towel and the few other items he had with him, leaving me to wonder why he had bothered to tell me where he was going. I got back to my spot to find my parents sitting under the umbrella they had set up. "Where've you been, Kitten?" my dad asked. "Just taking a walk." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old man walk past and head up the boardwalk that led to the parking lot. Without planning to, I blurted out, "I have to use the restroom. I'll be back in a minute." I trotted up the beach, then remembered what the old man had said. I slowed to a walk but stayed close enough to see where he was going. When he got to the restrooms, he looked back, saw me, and smiled. He looked around cautiously, then he veered off the sidewalk onto a sandy trail that led into the brush. I, too, gave a cautious sweep of the area. When I was sure no one was looking, I darted down the path. I found him in a small, shady clearing, sitting on his beach chair--with his shorts around his ankles! His white t-shirt was pulled up a little, exposing his round belly. Beneath was a patch of grey hair and a big, fat penis and two very large testicles hanging low in a wrinkly sack. "Ever see one of these, before, darling?" he said as a greeting. I had stopped and was staring. I nodded. "You're way bigger than my dad!" I said in a loud whisper. I had seen my dad in the shower and walking around my parent's bedroom naked. The old man's penis seemed twice as big around and an inch or two longer. His testicles seemed enormous compared to what I had seen. "Come over and touch it." Overwhelming curiosity blocked any apprehension I might have felt. I knelt in the sand in front of him, taking his penis in one hand and his testicles in the other. I felt their weight and size, then marveled as his penis stiffened to what must have been eight inches or more. "Rub it." I gave him a puzzled look. He put his hand over mine and showed me how to stroke it. "Faster." I sped up, and he let out a soft moan. "That's it, baby. You're doing fine! Roll my balls around, a little." I did as he asked. He began gasping and moaning louder. I could tell that he was fighting to stay quiet and avoid attracting any attention, but the pleasure I was giving him was making that difficult. I squeezed harder and stroked faster. It was surprisingly fun to know that such a simple thing was making him feel so good. He gave a firm grunt, and a stream of thick, white fluid erupted from the tip of his penis and landed on my chest, just above and between my breasts. It startled me. I kept stroking, but I pointed his penis a little to the side, away from me. Two more large spurts squirted out, followed by several smaller spurts, then he began dribbling onto my hand, making the end of his penis slimy and slippery. His penis began to soften immediately, and he grabbed my wrist to stop me from stroking, but I kept ahold of both it and his testicles. He was gasping for air, which began to worry me, but then his breathing slowed. "That was incredible, sweetie! You're a pro! I guess you've done this before, huh?" I shook my head. "Really? I guess you're just a natural, then. You sure made this old man feel young, again!" I smiled, then let go of him to inspect the mess on my hand and chest. "Here, let me get that for you." He picked up his towel and wiped off my chest. "We can't have you running around with that on your chest, can we?" Instead of wiping my hand, he bent down and sucked the fingers clean and licked up the rest. Again, it was both creepy and exciting at the same time. "How about you clean me, now?" He glanced down at his messy penis, and I immediately understood what he wanted me to do. My reluctance was very clear. "It won't bite you, darling. Lick it up like a big girl." I leaned forward, then hesitated. The "big girl" comment made me want to do it, but the thought of licking an old man's penis really disgusted me. I didn't want him to think I was a baby, but I just couldn't make myself do it. "That's okay, honey. Maybe next time. You'd better run along before your parents miss you or someone stumbles onto us." Next time? That thought worried me. I rose to my feet, walked backwards a few steps, then turned and ran back to the restrooms. When I got there, I composed myself and walked casually back to the beach, glad that no one was there to see me. "You were gone a long time," my mother mentioned. "There was a line." That was lame, there's never a line, but my mother ignored it. "I'm going for a swim." I ran to the water and swam out deep enough to ensure that any evidence of my recent encounter got washed away. I stayed out until I was relaxed. I had been trembling slightly, and I had no answers for the kind of questions suspicious parents ask. For days, I kept going over in my mind what had happened. By the following week, I wasn't sure that it had happened. The next time we went to the beach, I didn't see the old man. I'm not sure if I was relieved or disappointed. I did enjoy parading for the other old men who were there, but I didn't get close enough to talk to any of them--and I certainly didn't follow any behind the restrooms. When the day of our flight to the islands arrived, the memory of my encounter with the old man was more like a dream. I dismissed it and thought only of the adventure of traveling to a new place. We dropped our bags at the hotel and hit the beach at once. My mind wasn't prepared for the shock. In stark contrast to the yellow sand and murky green water of home, the bright white sands and sparkling clear blue water made me feel as if I were on some other, far away planet. I was also unprepared for another shock: all around me were topless girls and women and older boys and men in skimpy Speedos--not to mention the naked toddlers and other, young children. I'd never seen so much bare flesh, before--and not just at the beach. No one seemed to wear any more around town than they did at the beach, except that occasionally someone might add a t-shirt or loose wrap. I had fun exploring the shops and having breakfast and lunch in my new bikini. My mom had me shower and don a light sundress for dinner, but I still went barefoot. (And after the first night, I naughtily went without underwear!) During the day, my parents let me wander off on my own. "But don't go too far!" It was exciting to be given so much freedom and just as exciting to roam everywhere barefoot and nearly naked. I was tempted to lose my bikini top, but I didn't see any girls with breasts going topless. Many (but not most) women went topless, and a lot of flat-chested girls went topless, but the newly-budded girls like me seemed to keep themselves covered--if only just. My mother went topless on the beach (which really surprised me), but she always covered up before leaving the sand. She didn't give any hint or suggestion that I should go topless, myself, or that she would or wouldn't approve. I decided to keep the top, for the time being. On our third day there, I was playing in the fountains at the edge of the market when I noticed a handsome boy sitting on a nearby bench. He had shoulder-length, wavy, blond hair, and was quite muscular for a boy of (I guessed) twelve years old. Like most of the boys on the island, he wore a skimpy Speedo--and nothing else. After a while, I noticed that he was watching me. His gaze followed my movements through the spraying jets of water--and he never looked away. He didn't seem at all bothered by being caught staring at me. I was considering going over to talk to him when he got up and approached me. I don't know why, but I turned away and tried to pretend like I hadn't noticed him. He walked around in front of me and abruptly said, "Hi!" I smiled, shyly, and looked down at the ground, studying the pattern of the erupting jets of water. I mumbled, "Hi." "That's a nice bikini. It shows off your body really well." I blushed, continuing to stare at the ground, and mumbled, "Thanks." "You're really cute. You wanna hang out?" "I don't even know you." He reached towards me, placed his index finger under my chin, and gently raised my head so that I was looking at him. His touch was electric, and he had gorgeous green eyes! "I'm Simon." He lowered his hand and offered it to me. I shook it, lamely, and replied, "My name's Jennifer," but he didn't let go. He held it for seemingly forever, gently stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. Next, he pulled me forward, swapped hands, and led me through the market. I followed, in a daze. "There's a really great arcade, over here. It's got some pretty cool games." Like me, he had a wrist band that allowed him to charge things to his hotel bill. He let go of my hand long enough to buy some tokens, then ushered me to a game with a rifle mounted to it. He showed me how it worked, then stepped aside to let me try. As I was shooting at the targets, I was aware that he was standing very closely to me. His warm breath tickled my neck, and his bare chest brushed my bare back. My body tingled all over. It was hard concentrating on the game with Simon so close to me, and I lost my last turn when I realized that the pressure on my naked butt was the bulge in the front of his Speedos. I jumped with surprise, but he didn't move. He just reached around me, inserted another token, and encouraged me to try again. He didn't make it easy, though. He placed his hands on my shoulders and nuzzled my right ear as he began slowly--almost imperceptibly--rubbing his bulge against my butt. When I flubbed the second game, he lowered his hands to my waist, turned me around, and said, "Do you want to try a different game?" Without waiting for an answer, he led me out of the arcade. Out in the street, he unselfconsciously reached inside the front of his Speedos and adjusted himself. The bulge had become a long, slender ridge pointing up and to the left. He took off in a slow trot, and since he still held my hand, I was forced to do so, myself. He only slowed after reaching a cluster of small villas. He led me inside one of them. There was a small area that seemed to be a combination living room/kitchen with a sofa, chair, and coffee table on one side and a small bar, sink, and mini-refrigerator on the other. Through a door was a single bedroom. He led me to the edge of the bed, plopped down, then--without warning--leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a quick peck, but it was square on the lips. My first kiss from a boy! He pulled back to check my reaction, then he leaned back in. This time, the kiss was longer--and wetter. He opened his mouth, slightly, and then he pushed his tongue past my lips and into my mouth. Instinctively, I opened my own mouth and played my tongue against his. I was french kissing a boy! A boy I had met less than twenty minutes ago! A half-naked, golden-tanned, muscular, drop-dead-gorgeous, older boy with green eyes! We kissed passionately for more than a minute, then he abruptly broke contact. I leaned forward to start kissing him, again, but he stood up. Confused, I watched as he shucked his Speedos, causing his slender, four-inch penis to slap against his tummy and bounce a few times. The sight made me giggle. He sat back down on the bed and resumed kissing me. His hands roamed my upper body, and in a moment, I felt my bikini top slip away. The feel of his naked chest pressing against my naked breasts made my whole body tingle with excitement. He rolled me onto my back and broke our kiss, once again. Before I realized what he was doing, my bikini bottoms were gone, and he was back on top of me. With my help, he scooted our bodies back until we were lying completely on the bed. When he climbed on top of me, I didn't think about it--I just naturally spread my legs and allowed him to mount me. His penis slipped past my hymen before I realized what was happening. There was a sharp sting, followed by the wonderful feeling of a boy's penis sliding in and out of my vagina. I didn't think to be mad or to try to push him off me. My body knew what it was doing, and it wasn't checking with me to get my thoughts on the matter. I found myself spreading my legs wider in an effort to get him more deeply inside me. I was clutching his back, and I had locked my ankles behind his butt. The conscious part of me was too taken by surprise to form an opinion about what was happening. It just watched in stunned amazement while my body mated furiously with the most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on. It seemed to go on forever before I felt a tingling rising up from where our two bodies were joined. Then it hit me: It washed over me like an ocean wave, completely enveloping me. I felt the muscles of my vagina grip Simon's penis in a desperate attempt to hold him inside me, but Simon kept thrusting. I heard a moan escape my lips as euphoria swept over me. As my body slowly relaxed, Simon continued thrusting, the pace and force of his thrusts slowly increasing. I felt the tingling rising up in me, again, but this time, just as the wave hit, Simon gave a long, loud groan and pushed hard against me. My vagina tugged on his penis, and I felt a warmth spread inside me. Simon emitted several grunts, then stopped moving. He held himself firmly against me while I hugged him tightly with both my arms and legs. I could feel his penis pulsing sporadically in my vagina, and the warmth continued to spread. When the pulsing stopped, his whole body went limp, and he collapsed on top of me. I relaxed my grip, but continued hugging him. We were both breathing heavily. I don't know how long we laid there, like that, but slowly, I came to my senses. My body, having finished what it wanted to do, relinquished control of itself back to my mind. The full realization of what had just taken place hit me, and it began to feel awkward and uncomfortable to have a naked, sweaty boy lying on top of my naked, sweaty body. I felt Simon's penis slowly soften then slip out of me. Something wet trickled out with it. I pushed on his shoulders, but I couldn't roll him off me. "Simon." His breathing was still deep, but it was slow and steady. "Simon!" He propped himself up on his forearms, looked into my eyes, and smiled. It was the biggest smile I had ever seen on a boy's face, and I couldn't help but smile back. Without being asked, he rolled off me and sat up on the bed, kneeling next to me. I saw that his penis was slimy, and I was shocked to see traces of red that looked like blood. I quickly propped myself up on my arms, looked between my still-spread legs, and was even more shocked to see that there were traces of blood around my vagina. Simon immediately noticed my panic. "It's okay! It's just your cherry. There's only a little blood. You're fine. I'll clean you up." He got up and walked over to the dresser and returned with what looked like a baby wipe. He wiped his penis clean, folded the wipe over, then gently wiped between my legs. His touch gave me a warm, satisfied feeling. He tossed the wipe into the wastebasket, then crawled into bed next to me. His gaze made my heart melt, and I laughed with joy. "So, did you enjoy your first time?" he asked, playfully, causing me to blush. "It was wonderful! What about you?" I managed to squeak out. "You were wonderful, but this wasn't my first time. You're the fourth girl I've had since I got here three days ago." I don't know if the look on my face was puzzlement or jealousy, but Simon quickly added, "But you've been the best, so far! I like it when a girl's enthusiastic." "You do this a lot?" "You won't get mad?" I shook my head. "My first time was when I was ten. I did five girls in my fourth grade class--one on the playground!" "You did not! You're teasing me!" "No, really! That summer, I did three girls in my neighborhood who were my age. I've been doing them each once or twice a week, since. In fifth grade, I got every girl in my class except one--plus a few in each of the other classes. It got more difficult in middle school, but you're the 41st girl I've fucked." I giggled at that word. "No I'm not! You're making that up!" "I swear!" "What, do you keep a tally?" "Sort of. My dad gave me a journal. I write something about every new girl and every time I do it with a girl. You're forty-one. And, I have to say, the best of them all." "I don't believe you. Your parents would have caught you, by now, if that were true." "My parents know. My dad encourages me! Once I started squirting, he bought me condoms to use with the girls back home. He says he doesn't want me to cause a storm. I like it better when we go on trips because I get to do girls bare. It's a lot better that way." I started to ask a question, but I wasn't quite sure what to ask. Fortunately, Simon figured it out from the look on my face and my stuttering. "My dad says I'll most likely never again see the girls I meet on trips, so it doesn't matter if I squirt in them. Their parents can't do anything about it if they don't know where I live." I was about to ask "Do anything about what?" when the pieces fell into place. When a man and a woman want to have a baby, the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina and ejaculates his semen. The sperm in the semen swim up inside the woman, and if she has an egg waiting, and one of the sperm is able to penetrate the egg, a baby will start growing. I had in my mind the video of several dozen sperm flailing like tadpoles around an egg. I pictured that going on inside my body right at that moment. Strangely, I wasn't bothered by the thought. Instead, I got another warm feeling. I looked down at my belly as if I could see right through it and could watch as Simon's sperm raced toward my waiting egg. Simon reached over and gently rubbed my belly. "I'd like you to have my baby. You're really pretty. The baby would be really cute." I should have panicked, but instead I smiled. Incredibly, I, too, liked the idea of having Simon's baby. Of course, my parents would kill me. That thought started awakening me to the reality of what I had done. Without a thought, I had let a boy cum inside me. I had already started my period about six months ago, so there was a real chance that I would get pregnant. As much as I knew that I should be terrified by that thought, I still felt good about having Simon's sperm inside my body. My body was happy, and it seemed that it wasn't going to let me spoil it. We laid there in silence for several minutes, Simon gently caressed my body. His hand wandered from my cheek, down my arm, across my breasts and belly, over the outside of my thigh, between my legs on my inner thighs, then over my vulva and back up. On one trip, he used both hands to gently pry apart my thighs as he smiled and said, "I'm ready, again." I looked down and saw that his penis had stiffened, again. I didn't resist when he tentatively mounted me. He held himself deep inside me for a moment. When I didn't protest, he began slowly thrusting. It wasn't the impassioned, frantic movements of our first coupling. This was slow and gentle, as if he were savoring every stroke. I silently wondered if I should let him continue or try to stop him. I already had his sperm inside me, so what would it hurt for him to add some more? On the other hand, letting him pump more sperm into me must certainly increase the chance of one getting to my egg--if one was waiting. (I wasn't regular, so I had no idea where I was in my cycle, but it had been two weeks since my last period.) No matter, my body knew what it wanted, and it was determined to not let me interfere. I felt like I was being pushed aside, and all I could do was watch. Looking over Simon's shoulder, I was amused by the flexing of his tanned, muscular buttocks as he thrust inside me. His motions were smooth and practiced, which made me suspect that he was telling the truth, after all. Actually, it made me feel good to think that he could have had any girl, but he chose me. I began to enjoy the experience as much as my body was. I began to want it as much as my body did. I was mating with a boy, and it felt good. The tingling began to grow. I was ready for it this time, and it happened just as Simon pushed into me. I remembered the old man at the beach and imagined thick streams of semen squirting from Simon's penis into my vagina. I had closed my eyes tightly at the moment Simon ejaculated. I opened them when I felt him start to relax. My heart jumped at the sight of two adults, a man and a woman, standing at the foot of the bed. In a panic, I tried to push Simon off me, but he wouldn't budge. "Simon!" I whispered harshly. "Simon!" He lifted himself up. I gave an urgent look over his shoulder. He turned his body, slightly, and said, "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" He rolled off me, hopped up, and gave them each a hug. I wanted to run, but they blocked my escape through the door. I sat up on the bed, hugged my knees to my chests, and tried to be invisible. "This is Jennifer." "It's okay, Jennifer," Simon's father said. "Simon often brings his girlfriends back to our room, so we're used to it. It sounds like you too had a really good time." "She's just as cute as that redhead we found him with, yesterday," his mother said to his father. I curled into a tighter ball and tried to disappear into the bedspread. Simon's mother sat down beside me and put her arm around me. "It's okay, honey. There's no need to be embarrassed. Simon's quite the ladies' man. It's perfectly natural for you to have sex with him. He's really good at it, too. You may be disappointed when you have your next boy." Next boy? I hadn't yet gotten used to the idea that I was no longer a virgin. I hadn't even intended for this to happen. There was no thought of a next boy. "Um, I have to go. My parents will be wondering where I am." I started to get up to leave, hoping they would make room for me, when I realized that I'd have to show my body to Simon's father before I could get past him. They seemed to understand my problem. "We'll wait in the living room for you to get dressed." When they were gone, I stood up and grabbed my bikini bottoms off the floor. As I spread my legs, slightly to put them on, a fluid ran out of my vagina and down my thigh. "Wait a minute," Simon instructed. He got another wipe and cleaned me up, then he helped me tie the bottoms. He picked up the top for me, but rather than helping me put it on, he tucked it into one of the side ties on the bottom. "You have great breasts. Lots of girls go topless. You should, too." I didn't want to argue, I just wanted to get out of there, so I hurried past his parents without looking at them. If I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me, right? Wrong! "Bye, Jennifer. I hope you and Simon get together, again." I just kept walking. I met my parents half way back to the beach. "Hungry?" my father asked. We were half way through lunch before I remembered that I was topless. My parents hadn't said anything--or given any hint that they had even noticed. By now, I was so used to being mostly naked that I hardly noticed, myself, that I was completely naked--at least on top. I quickly looked down to confirm that I had, in fact, put my bottoms on. They were there. We toured a museum, that afternoon, that had treasure and other items recovered from a number of wrecked ships from the 1600s. My mind was elsewhere. I kept thinking about Simon and what we had done. Then I'd become really self-conscious, feeling like everyone who looked at me knew that I had had sex with a boy--and had let him cum inside me.. Then I noticed all the men--middle-aged and old--who stared at me and smiled when I caught them them doing it. I began to get a "Look at me! I'm a woman!" attitude. I slowly came out of my shell and started teasing the older men. It was fun to know that they knew that I knew what I was doing. My parents were with me the whole time, so none of the men approached me the way the old man at the beach had. The thought crossed my mind that I might try teasing some old men at the market in the morning, when my parents left me on my own. I laughed as I wondered where that would lead me. "What's so funny?" my mother asked. Oops! Busted! "Uh, nothing, Mom. I'm just having a good time. I'm glad you brought me along." "That's good, Babboo. Your father and I are glad we brought you, too." When we got back to the hotel room to shower, I was appalled to find that the front of my bikini was stained and crusty. I wondered if it had been noticeable? My parents hadn't said anything, but they hadn't mentioned me being topless, either. I washed the bikini bottoms out in the sink, then made sure to thoroughly clean myself in the shower: My vulva and inner thighs were sticky from Simon's semen. After we placed our drink order at dinner, I was stunned to see Simon and his parents approach our table. Simon was wearing incredibly short shorts and a mesh muscle shirt that made me sigh despite my dread of what might happen next. "Hello, Jennifer," Simon's dad said, then to my parents, "You must be Jennifer's parents. We're Simon's parents." My mom and dad gave me questioning looks. Before I could think of what to say, Simon's dad intervened. "Simon and Jennifer met, this morning. Simon told us they had a good time, together." I cringed as I waited for him to explain what he meant by "a good time," but it didn't come. Instead, I was hit with an awkward question from my mother. "Jennifer, why didn't you tell us about Simon?" Then, in a hushed voice that was still loud enough for everyone to hear, "He's cute!" "Mom!" Not satisfied that she had embarrassed me enough, my mother turned to Simon and his parents. "Why don't you join us?" Our parents exchanged introductions. Simon sat across from me and smiled a devilish grin that made me laugh several times before the waiter arrived to take our dinner order. To make matters worse, every so often he'd reach under the table with his bare foot and rub it up my leg, between my thighs, and poke his big toe at my vagina. My seemingly random squirms drew puzzled looks from my parents and knowing smiles from Simon's. My embarrassment was compounded by the not-so-subtle comments from both sets of parents about how Simon and I made a "cute couple" and wouldn't it be nice if we could "hook up" a few more times before we had to leave. The comments from both sides were highly suggestive. My parents thought they were having fun teasing us kids. I wondered what they'd have said if they had known that Simon's parents were making a serious proposal. I managed to survive dinner, but the teasing resumed once we were back in our room. "Jennifer," my mother began. "Simon has to be the cutest boy on the island. He's some catch!" "Mom!" Ignoring me, "Is that why you weren't wearing your bikini top when we found you for lunch? You wanted to show off the goods for Simon?" "Dad! Make her stop!" My dad just piled on. "Simon is a very cute boy, Kitten. There's nothing wrong with you being interested in cute boys at your age." "Dad! You're not helping!" My mom was relentless. "Babboo, you wanted the bikini. If you're going to wear a bikini, you have to expect that cute boys are going to chase after you. And, if you're only going to wear the bottom part, you have to expect that cute boys are going to want to do more than just chase you." "MOM!" "Not so loud, sweetie. I was your age, once. I know all about boys and girls your age. If you want to cuddle and kiss, that's okay with your father and me. Just be careful that you don't go too far. Fooling around with boys is great fun, but you don't want to go and get yourself a little bump." I was too embarrassed to do anything but groan. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Babboo. I wouldn't be surprised if you've already started experimenting with boys, but before you go and get yourself in trouble, I should probably teach you about ways you can have fun with a boy without having to worry about him leaving you a little present." "Mom! I'm going to die! Would you please stop!" Mom gave me a hug. I resisted, at first, but she knows just how to make me melt. It was the most awkward night of my life. My parents talked to me about masturbation and about oral sex. Dad explained that boys like having their penises sucked almost as much as they enjoy putting them inside of vaginas, so if I ever felt like I just had to do something with a boy--or a boy ever insisted on doing something with me--I should just offer to give him oral sex. "He'll thoroughly enjoy it, and you don't have to worry about getting pregnant." He actually said that! My parents have always talked to me openly about sex, but this was the first time they had gotten into the details about how it actually works. It was also the first time that they had given any hint that they were okay with me having sex--and expected me to have sex--and expected me to enjoy it. The more we talked, the less embarrassed I got. I was even over being mad at them. I decided to test the waters. "Simon told me that he's had sex, before." "I'm not surprised," my mother said, matter-of-factly. "He's quite the looker." "With three girls who live in his neighborhood." My dad chimed in at this point. "The way he played with you at dinner, I thought he might have some experience. He didn't seem at all concerned about getting caught." I tried to pretend like I hadn't heard that, but he pressed on. "Under the table." Go away. Nothing to see, here. "Under your dress." "Dad!" "Your mother and I saw him playing footsie with your girl parts. It would have been hard not to notice. And you seemed to be enjoying it, I'll add, thank you." I was about to protest, but I knew I was caught. "And don't think we haven't noticed that you haven't been wearing any panties under that dress," my mother added. "So you can drop this whole 'I don't know what you're talking about' routine. Eleven-year-old girls with breasts are sexual creatures, and we're okay with that. We're okay with you exploring and enjoying your sexuality. We just want you to be safe." I opened my mouth to protest loudly, but the look on my mother's face made me close it without saying a word. "Like I said, I experimented when I was your age, and I quickly learned how much fun sex can be, but I waited until I married your father before I let anyone's sperm anywhere near my vagina. The embarrassment returned with a vengeance. "If you want to experiment with Simon--if you've already experimented with Simon--that's okay. Just please don't go sneaking around and trying to hide it from us." "Simon and I kissed, this morning," I blurted before I lost my nerve. "A lot." "French kissing?" my mother asked. I nodded. "Were you both naked while you were kissing?" I nodded, again. "So, what were his boy parts like," my mother asked conspiratorially. "I saw his little stiffy tenting his shorts when he got up from the table after dinner. I bet he's just adorable!" I had to laugh at my mother's mock enthusiasm. "I've had enough talk about sex for one day. Can we PLEASE go to bed, now?" Later that night, I laid awake in bed listening to the sound of my parents having sex. They didn't do that very often when I was in the room, but there had been a few occasions over the years--particularly when we went camping--when they thought I was asleep and risked it. I heard them whispering about how all that talk about their daughter having sex had made them horny. My mother actually used that word! When I heard my father grunt, I thought about Simon squirting his semen into me. I smiled and drifted off to sleep. In the morning, my parents insisted that I spend the day with them. I told them that I liked exploring the island on my own, and that I wouldn't get into trouble with Simon because Simon had told me that he and his parents would be visiting friends and would be gone all day, and I wouldn't get into trouble with any other boys. I didn't promise any such thing about older men. Reluctantly, they left me free, and I headed off in the opposite direction they were heading. It didn't take long to catch the eye of a grandfatherly old man in a Speedo, tank top, and sandals. It was perfectly clear why I was attracted to Simon--any girl my age would be; however, I don't know what it was about old men that fascinated me. I just knew that I liked having them look at my body. It was like a dance with this one. We both knew exactly what was going on, but we both pretended that it was completely innocent. I tried to lead him someplace private, but I quickly realized I didn't know where that might be. Fortunately, he offered a few subtle hints, and I found myself in the stall of an empty stable, bobbing my head up and down on his sweaty cock as I massaged his sweaty balls. There had been no hesitation on my part. I wanted his penis inside me. I really wanted it in my vagina, but I was worried that it was too big, so I just put together the old man's suggestion behind the restroom and my parents' suggestions from last night, and I went to work on him. I didn't really know what I was doing, but his encouraging moans told me when I was getting it right. It was hardly a minute before I felt a splash at the back of my throat. My first reaction was to pull off, but I immediately remembered the mess that the first old man had made, and I forced myself to suppress the gagging, and I just kept swallowing until he was done. I led three other old men to that stall before I decided to hook back up with my parents for lunch. It was really quite simple. The mere presence of a nearly-naked pubescent girl is enough to engage the attention of men of any age. Some men are embarrassed and pretend not to notice. Other men are embarrassed only after they get caught noticing. Those men quickly look away and move off, fearing the trouble they'll get into for having dirty thoughts. Then there are the men who don't mind getting caught. They rather enjoy getting caught, and when they do, they continue looking. Over the years, I discovered that there is no shortage of those kind of men at any popular tourist destination. That day, I learned quickly. After noticing them noticing me, I'd start to walk away, then I'd look back over my shoulder to see if they were following. If not, I'd smile at them while absentmindedly rubbing a hand across either my bare breasts or bare buttocks, as if I were brushing away sand, then I'd walk a little further before checking again. The moment I entered the alley that led to the stable, I'd see their faces light up with surprise and anticipation. At that point, I didn't need to look back: I knew they'd follow me the rest of the way. Once in the stall, I'd drop to my knees and wait for the man to enter. When he did, I'd immediately undo his shorts or untie his swimsuit and pull it down to his ankles. The man would then grab my head and run his fingers through my hair before bending over and rubbing my back. Then he'd work his hands around to my breasts. Daddy was right about oral sex: The men seemed quite content, and none of them tried to do anything more with me. When they were done, they just pulled up their shorts, told me how wonderful I was, then hurried nervously out of the stable. I always waited a minute or two so that no one would see us leaving together. After the last man left, I was startled by a voice from just above me. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be messin' around with old men. There are plenty of boys your age on the beach. How come you're not with one of them?" I looked up to see a boy lying on the loft, above, with just his head hanging over the edge. He swung around and let himself drop to the ground in front of me, blocking the way out. He looked as if he might be fourteen or fifteen years old, and he was dressed only in a loose-fitting pair of white shorts. He was quite muscular, and his skin was black as coal. I stood up, looking for a way past him. Seeing none, I stuttered, "I, um, actually, I did find a boy my age, but for some reason," I blushed and looked down at the ground, "Well, I don't know, I'm excited by old men." I glanced up to see his reaction. When he gave no indication of what he thought of that, I added, "That's pretty weird, huh?" "Did you get it on with the boy?" I blushed, unable to answer. "I guess that's a yes. You do it with lots of boys?" "No. That was my first time." "What about the old men?" "I did it once, back home, but today was my first time here." "Was it just the one I saw, or were there others?" I felt my face warm. I didn't seem to have much control of my body, recently, because I found myself answering, even though I didn't really want to. "He was the fourth." "Four! Damn, girl! How old are you?" "Eleven." "You're the randiest eleven-year-old I've ever met! What say you and I have a little fun, huh? Maybe I can turn you off the geezers." He dropped his shorts and stepped out of them. My eyes were immediately drawn to his beautiful penis. It was perfectly round, a little longer and thicker than Simon's, and it was sticking up at a slight angle. As I was staring, he stepped forward, removed my bikini bottom, and wasted no time laying me on my back and mounting me. As with Simon, I felt as if I should be resisting, but my body wanted it to happen, and I seemed powerless to stop it. This boy was different from Simon. His rhythm was different. The way he touched me as he thrust was different. The sounds he made were different. However, my body enjoyed him every bit as much as it had enjoyed Simon. He also lasted quite a bit longer than Simon, and I came three times before he finally pushed into me and I felt the warm jets coming from his throbbing penis. He held himself inside me for only a few seconds after the throbbing stopped. He got up, pulled his shorts on, and said, "I'll be here the same time, tomorrow," before abruptly leaving. I laid on my back for several minutes, fingering my clit and thinking about what a nasty girl I had become. I'd had sex with two different boys on two different days, and I'd sucked off four old men--each of whom was old enough to be my grandfather. I didn't know why I was doing the things I was doing, but I did know that I sure was enjoying them! Just then, I thought about the mess that Simon had made in me, and I realized that I must have a similar mess in me, now, left by a boy whose name I didn't even know. I sat up into a squat, spread my vulva apart with my fingers, and watched as a river of semen drained from my vagina. I swept my vagina out with my fingers, then wiped my fingers on the ground. I put my bikini bottom back on, then went in search of my parents. I found them sitting outside a cafe, half way finished with lunch. "We didn't think you were going to join us. We waited a bit, but we were hungry, so we started without you." My mother asked me what I wanted as she tried to get a waiter's attention. "What's been keeping you busy, all morning?" I suddenly realized that I had no answer for my mother, so I tried to change the topic. "Do you think we could go parasailing after lunch? It looks like fun!" "I don't know--it looks dangerous. You weren't with another boy, were you?" My mother can be dismissive and persistent in the same breath, but I'm equally good at selectively ignoring her. "It can't be that dangerous: Everyone's doing it! Dad, please?" "I'll go with you so your mother doesn't have to witness the horror." I pounced on my father and gave him a big hug. "Thanks, Daddy!" "So, does this boy have a name?" Damn her persistence! "I'm rather fond of Simon. Why bother with other boys when Simon is so cute?" "Mother! I only met Simon, yesterday. It's not like we're engaged, or anything." "Oh, so there is another boy." "There's no other boy, Mother!" Well, at least not the way my mother meant it. I wasn't going steady with Simon--I had only just met him--and I wasn't going steady with that other boy, either. (I really wished I had asked him his name!) "Well, that's good. You should really get to know Simon better. He seems like such a nice boy." If my mother only knew! As I ate my lunch, it was impossible to get her off the topic of boys in general--and Simon in particular. I felt like saying, "If you like him so much, why don't *you* date him!" but I didn't. After lunch, Dad took me parasailing while Mom went for something called an "algae wrap." I didn't ask. At least it got me away from any discussion of boys. The next morning, we ran into Simon and his parents at breakfast. I wanted to spend the day alone (actually, alone with Simon), but my mother didn't like the idea of us being unsupervised. She was satisfied when Simon's parents agreed to chaperone. Again, if she only knew! That meant that Simon's parents took us on a self-guided sight-seeing tour that afforded us several opportunities to "have fun" with each other along the way. Part of me was stunned that Simon's parents actually encouraged us to have sex, and another part of me just enjoyed it. By the time we met back up with my parents for dinner, I was feeling a little sore--but very happy. For most of the rest of vacation, I was tied to my parents, but I did manage to be with Simon two more times before we left for home. Three weeks later, I was throwing up in the morning, and by Thanksgiving, I had a noticeable bump. My parents naturally assumed I was carrying Simon's baby, but I knew there was a chance that I had gotten pregnant by the boy whose name I didn't know. Surprisingly, my parents weren't anywhere near as upset as I thought they'd be. We have mild winters, where I live, so there were quite a few weekends when it was warm enough to go to the beach. I already knew that old men were turned on by preteen girls in bikinis, but I found out that they're *really* turned on by pregnant preteen girls in bikinis. I spent a lot of time behind the restrooms sucking off old men, and I even let a few of the one's with smaller cocks enjoy my pussy (after all, I couldn't get any *more* pregnant). In April, I delivered a healthy baby boy and confirmed that Simon was indeed the father. I often wonder how many half-brothers and half-sisters my son has and if I'll ever get the chance to give him a full sibling (or two).